


She Bit Me!

by alynwa



Series: Short Affairs [13]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 07:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7967725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The prompt word is "parrot."<br/>The prompt color is purple.</p>
    </blockquote>





	She Bit Me!

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt word is "parrot."  
> The prompt color is purple.

The Prompt Word:  Parrot

The Prompt Color:  Orange

 

“I have never hated an Innocent before, but I hate this one,” Napoleon muttered from the back seat of the sedan his partner was driving.  “If the mission didn’t depend on Natalie’s being safely delivered to HQ, I would have wrung her neck, literally, when she bit me.”

“Napoleon, for the fourth time, we scared her when we burst into the room and started fighting with her captors.  I do not blame her for screaming and trying to escape.  When you grabbed her, she instinctively began to defend herself.”

“You wouldn’t be so calm, Mr. Voice of Reason, if she had bitten _you._ ”

“Perhaps not, but she did not bite me.  You yelling at her to calm down was not helping matters, either.”

“Yeah, well neither was your driving like a bat out of hell going down that driveway to the main road.  We were rolling from side to side back here!”

“We got away, did we not?  And lower your voice!  Do you want to wake her and have her become hysterical all over again?” the Russian whisper – shouted as he glanced in the rearview mirror.  “We will be arriving at Headquarters shortly.  I have already advised Reception that we will be entering from the garage and to have someone meet us there.  I think it best that we use Mr. Waverly’s private elevator to go directly to his office.  The fewer people who see her, the calmer she will stay.  We do not want another outburst.”

“Agreed.”

Illya was able to park close to the Executive Elevator entrance.  He shut off the engine, got out and helped Napoleon get their charge out of the car.   Napoleon smoothly entered the code on the keypad next to the door using his right hand while keeping an eye on the Innocent.  The door slid open to reveal Glenna holding three badges.

Her eyes widened briefly when she took in Natalie’s disheveled appearance, but she regained her composure so quickly that anyone other than a Section II or III would have missed it.  “Hello, Mr. Waverly’s expecting you.”  She handed Illya his badge, pinned Napoleon’s onto his left lapel and pinned Natalie’s where he indicated.

He let out a sigh of relief when Natalie didn’t object to Glenna affixing the Visitor’s badge.  A quick ride in the elevator brought them directly into Mr. Waverly’s office.  The Old Man was expecting them and simply nodded as his agents stepped to their usual seats opposite him.

“Gentlemen,” he said as Napoleon placed the cage on top of the conference table and removed the cover, “I can assume this is Natalie?”

With her cage uncovered, the large bird turned her orange head to look at her new surroundings.  Natalie was a beautiful Australian King Parrot who also possessed green wings and a blue body.  She shifted so that she could look at the man who had spoken.  She was feeling a bit unsettled and distrustful.

Illya spoke.  “Yes, Mr. Waverly.  Before Agent Solo and I were able to affect our escape, Theodore Alston, the satrap chief, bragged that the only being who knows his plans and where he hides his money is that bird.”

Waverly’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline.  “Indeed?”

“Yes, Sir.  At first, we thought it was just another crackpot claim, but then we noticed that the bird actually had its own security team!”

Napoleon had been listening and nodding his agreement.  “I decided that we should take the bird and see if we can get it to talk and tell us what it knows.”  He subconsciously rubbed his arm.  “Natalie became quite agitated when we went to get her.  She was out of her cage and trying to get away.  She took a bite out of me.”

“It is fortunate that Agent Solo was wearing his shirt and jacket or he would probably be missing a substantial chunk of his arm.”

“As it was, she drew blood,” Napoleon added.

The older man was listening to his agents while looking at the bird.  He pulled open a desk drawer and extracted a plastic bag with fruit in it.  Glancing at his men he said, “Mrs. Waverly is insisting I eat more fruit,” before pulling a small banana out, unpeeling it and holding it out for the bird to take.  When she did, he reached for his pitcher of water and poured some into her bowl.  “I have always held a fondness for birds.  I believe I will take Natalie home.  I’m sure that over time, my wife and I will be able to persuade her to talk to us.  Good work, Gentlemen.  Mr. Solo, go to medical and get your arm attended to.  I’ll expect your written report before you leave for the day.”

“Yes, Sir,” they answered before taking their leave.  As they walked toward the elevators Napoleon grumbled, “I don’t want to see that creature ever again!  I’m glad he’s getting out of here!”

Illya smirked, “The only squawking anyone will hear in this building will just be you.  As usual.”

_Three months later…_

Illya and Napoleon were working on reports when someone knocked on their door.  Annoyed, the CEA called out, “This better be good, we’re very busy!” before the door slid open to reveal Number One.  “Mr. Waverly!  Sorry, Sir.  Did Illya and I forget a meeting?”

“No, no.  I’m on my way to England and wanted to tell you before I go that Natalie had some very interesting things to say to Mrs. Waverly and me about Swiss bank accounts.  Here, I wrote it down.  I’d like you to assign Rutherford and Baker to look into it.”

“Of course.”

The Old Man nodded, put his hat on and went on his way.  Napoleon looked at Illya and grinned.  “Good, as long as we don’t have to check it out.”

The Russian deadpanned, “With all the paperwork you have to clear from your desk, I am surprised you did not volunteer.”  He gracefully avoided the pencil thrown his way.    

 


End file.
